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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26348311">One's Troubles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites'>DictionaryWrites</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Blind Ignis Scientia, Blindness, Complicated Relationships, Intimacy, M/M, Spoilers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:22:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26348311</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“How do you know it was me? Just by hearing me?” Gladio asked. His voice was quiet, hoarse – he’d been training with the Crown Services today, shouting for the new recruits to fall in line. The army was bolstering its numbers – to be used to keep down daemon populations, and, Ignis prayed, only that.</p><p>“Not precisely,” Ignis said, beginning to spoon out the rest of the scrambled eggs for Gladio to take. “You’re actually rather light on your feet, for how large you are, and I can feel the disturbance you make as you step through the doorway. The combination of large size and delicate step is, I confess, a useful clue. But even without that, I recognise the jewellery you’re wearing, and your uniform – the enchantments in them. You might as well wear a serial code.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One's Troubles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A lot of the canon ending was thrown out of the window because, frankly, I found a lot of it quite stupid.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Officially, he was taking a leave of absence.</p><p>With all that had happened in the past few months, with the defeat of Ardyn behind them, the death of Lady Lunafreya, with Noct’s coronation, the <em>official</em> standpoint of the Crown Services was that Ignis was taking time to… adjust to his new situation, that he was not accessible through official channels, that he was to be left in peace.</p><p>In practice, of course, this was not the case. He had accompanied the king on several trips within the kingdom, as well as on trips to the surrounding area, and hunts had been among them, no matter how much it maddened the Crown Services to have either the king or his blind companion to go out into the field, rising their lives fighting one daemon or other.</p><p>But—</p><p>Officially, Ignis <em>was</em> taking a leave of absence, and Noct and Prompto were somewhere up in the royal wing of the palace, playing videogames for a few hours before Noct was inevitably called to some other duty.</p><p>Ignis did not expect an interruption any time soon.</p><p>The kitchen in the royal wing, which had for so many years been Ignis’ sole domain, separate as it was to the one in the servants’ wing or the one intended to service the main dining room, still felt to him like foreign ground, without his eyes to see by. He knew everything in the room to a T, knew precisely where everything was mapped, and yet he felt sometimes as though he were learning to cook from scratch.</p><p>In some ways, he supposed he was.</p><p>He did not know if it was true that the other physical senses were strengthened after one lost one’s sight – he did know that he was forced to rely on those senses more, and that that probably had more to do with it than anything else. He sensed magic in a way he never had before, even after years of study; he was sensitive to small movements in the air…</p><p>But cooking.</p><p>Cooking, that was a different art.</p><p>He brought each jar up to his face before he used any of it, inhaling the scents of the herbs and dried ingredients he used, and he was far more careful as to looking for the texture in whatever he cooked. He had learned to measure a steak’s cooking by touch even before the Magitek blast, to press on it and see the extent to which it yielded, but vegetables, fruit, and all the rest, he was having to learn by trial and error what texture precisely he wanted as he experimented.</p><p>When he ate his eggs, he found them underseasoned: a cursory slide of his fingers over the countertop revealed how much of the seasoning had fallen there, dropped with his own overzealousness – and overconfidence.</p><p>He was sighing softly, rubbing at his eye, when he heard the other man enter the room.</p><p>“Gladio,” he said quietly.</p><p>“Your eyes hurting?”</p><p>“Merely tired, that’s all,” Ignis said, and he heard Gladio’s footsteps on the wood floor of the little private dining room, heard the slight creak of one of the stools at the kitchen island as he leaned against the counter.</p><p>“How do you know it was me? Just by hearing me?” Gladio asked. His voice was quiet, hoarse – he’d been training with the Crown Services today, shouting for the new recruits to fall in line. The army was bolstering its numbers – to be used to keep down daemon populations, and, Ignis prayed, only that.</p><p>“Not precisely,” Ignis said, beginning to spoon out the rest of the scrambled eggs for Gladio to take. “You’re actually rather light on your feet, for how large you are, and I can feel the disturbance you make as you step through the doorway. The combination of large size and delicate step is, I confess, a useful clue. But even without that, I recognise the jewellery you’re wearing, and your uniform – the enchantments in them. You might as well wear a serial code.”</p><p>“I’m glad you still recognise me,” Gladio said. It was surprisingly gentle, intimate, and Ignis felt himself frown.</p><p>“Don’t tell me you’re feeling maudlin,” he said, putting the plate in front of him.</p><p>“Nah,” Gladio said. “I ain’t feeling sorry for myself – there’s people have it worse than me.”</p><p>“What a delicate way to remind me of my troubles.”</p><p>“Shit.” He heard the creak of the stool as Gladio sat down, heard his clothes shift as he fidgeted. “I didn’t mean it like— like that.”</p><p>“I know. Merely that I shouldn’t like you to use my blindness, or the loss of Noct’s fiancée, or anything else, to dissuade yourself from recognising your feelings ‘til comes the end of time.”</p><p>“Feeling like a psychoanalyst tonight, huh?”</p><p>“Well, I don’t feel like much of a chef,” Ignis admitted. “You might notice the eggs are somewhat tasteless.”</p><p>“I wasn’t gonna say.”</p><p>“For which I commend you – such good manners. But for what I cannot see, Gladio, I <em>can</em> still taste. I missed the pan with some of the seasoning.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“They’re only eggs, Gladio.”</p><p>“Not about the damn eggs.”</p><p>Ignis sighed, stepping slowly around the counter. “Yes,” he said. “I know that too. You really mustn’t keep worrying about me, you know. I’m afraid I intend to rather— do everything I used to do.”</p><p>“Drive the Regalia?”</p><p>“Perhaps not that.”</p><p>Gladio laughed, disbelieving. “<em>Perhaps</em>?” he repeated, mocking Ignis’ accent, and Ignis felt himself smile, dropping into the other stool. He turned in it, so that his knee touched against Gladio’s: there was a magnitude of meaning in this small movement, and the brush of Gladio’s knee against Ignis’ own felt, in some ways, like a lightning strike. Gladio pressed back against him, and did not pull away, but did not further close the gap.</p><p>“Would you do me a favour?”</p><p>“Sure, Iggy. What?”</p><p>“I rather hate the electronic voice my e-reader has, but I’m afraid the book I’m reading doesn’t have an audiobook. Would you read it to me?”</p><p>“Braille still kicking your ass, huh?”</p><p>“Like a behemoth.”</p><p>“Sure, I’ll read to you,” Gladio murmured. The plate made a quiet click as he set it down, and Ignis closed his eyes as he felt Gladio’s hand brush against his own. He didn’t move to hold it, just touched his fingertips over the back of Ignis’ own, tracing his knuckles.</p><p>“You know Prompto’s fallen asleep in his bed three times this week.”</p><p>“I didn’t know that,” Ignis said. “I did know that they fell asleep together in the armchair in the library last night.”</p><p>“You don’t think we should— do something?”</p><p>“You and I have a tendency to rather externalise our problems,” Ignis said softly. Ignis wished he could see Gladio’s face – that was what he missed most of all, he thought. Not everybody’s face, no, but Gladio’s, Noctis’, Prompto’s. He’d always miss their faces. He thought he’d give up cooking entirely, if he meant he could still see their faces. If wishes were chocobos, the whole world would ride. “Projection is a dreadful thing, you know.”</p><p>“Let’s go get that book,” Gladio said.</p><p>“Yes,” Ignis murmured, and although he didn’t need it any longer, not within the bounds of the palace, he let Gladio guide him with a hand on the small of his back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know I said I probably won't be writing fanfic for a while now I'm publishing my own books and short stories, et cetera, but honestly, I think I can do both. I think the rough rule I'll set myself is that I won't write fanfic when I would be writing original stuff, but if I write fanfic where I otherwise wouldn't be writing anything, I should go for it. </p><p>Might write more FFXV! Might not! Who knows?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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